


The Marriage of True Minds

by thehelsabot



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: All Flemeth's fault, Bittersweet, Blame Flemeth, Drama, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Gen, I will mark any chapter that is naughty, Inter-dimensional traveling, M/M, Manipulation, Multi, Not really modern girl in thedas, OC is a pawn, Origin Story, She travels, Slow Burn, no smut yet though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 07:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11076759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehelsabot/pseuds/thehelsabot
Summary: Looking back, us meeting was "an ever fixed mark." It was fate, I daresay. I do not regret our time together; you still hang in the open wound of my chest, my heart.Let us start at the beginning, though, before we knew the other existed and before what truly would define us as people transpired.





	The Marriage of True Minds

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here is a glimpse of something I am working on after a lovely spell of general apathy and depression hit me like a ton of bricks. I need to write some drama, so drama there shall be.
> 
> Title is slightly obvious Shakespeare reference.

“Go  _ da’len _ ,  _ run! _ ” Mauren Lavellan’s brows knit. They were to go into the village and trade with the humans for supplies before the clan trekked north; her daughter had begged her to go. 

 

She’d turn 11 that summer and already her father and brothers were yielding to her every wish-- Mamae was no different. Of five children she had only one daughter. A daughter which had come as a surprise so late in life. She was nearly 40 years when the Creators gifted her with the smallest, sweetest blessing after a tedious but successful birth. Round cheeks and fat little hands, perfectly pointed ears and fawny brown hair. She could proudly say she’d finally made a child that took more after her than her husband; among her fondest memories were seeing those nearly identical piercing blue eyes open to the world.  What had been more a surprise, however, was the child’s magic: by 5 she was setting hay on fire and by 8 she’d made a game of sending icy blasts to her brother’s behinds anytime they squatted. The Keeper had known-- she  _ always _ knew. Yes, they were proud of the family’s only mage in two generations.    
  


“But  _ mamae! _ ” Adehlehis’ small, muddy hands grasped desperately at her mother’s tunic, urging her to somehow ignore the obvious break in her shin and long gash pouring blood.  _ If only I had paid more mind to Keeper’s healing demonstrations, _ Adehlehis thought,  _ though a halla is hardly the same as a person. _

  
“ _ Run _ !” Mauren pushed her daughter as a band of darkspawn grew closer. She pulled out a dagger from her pocket, slew of Ehlven erupting from her lips. “Adehl!  _ Now. Do not stop until you hear silence, da’len! I love you! _ ”   
  
Her child’s sobs echoed along with her footsteps against the stone-- distinguishable only to her from the approaching nightmare of hurlocks.

  
The mother smiled, bringing the knife to her own throat, voice trembling, “ _ Mythal _ , protect my child!”

The blood spilt clean on the rock, her plea echoing in the rocky basin and gently rippling the surface of the Veil as the knife fell. Mauren had been no mage, but in that moment the force of life she felt passing through her must have been what it was like to have the world shift at her fingertips.

 

And run she did. Adehlehis tore through the wooded path, deeper into the forest. None of it was familiar. A Dalish child, lost? More common than the shem think. Tracking near the clan’s grounds was one thing-- but she was miles away from the familiar. The strange plants and stench of the growing swamp was nothing like the forests she was accustomed, though they’d traveled only a few days time away from the clan. Four days, actually. It turns out the Kokari Wilds were significantly closer than she’d anticipated-- that or she just was a  _ very fast runner.  _  It’s true the running blurred together, and any fatigue soon left her was replaced with adrenaline. She hadn’t even time to stop and consider her mother.

 

_ Mamae is dead. _ There was no way she was not, was there? At least 30 darkspawn chased them through the wooded path from their makeshift camp.

  
She couldn’t tell if it were night before she crossed into the swamp, since the forest was so dense, but it was certainly well past dark now. The call of owls and strum of spring crickets washed the forest and the pit of her stomach dropped. She was hungry. She was thirsty. And so, so tired. All the children learned basic hunting skills but that didn’t mean she was  _ good _ at it, despite what any outsider might hear of the Dalish. 

 

“Ah, how unusual to see an Elvhen child wandering alone in these parts-- or at all, really. And with such a serious expression. And  _ filthy. _ ” An old human woman walked slowly to her, a break in the trees allowing a beam of moonlight to illuminate her hard worn face, “Tell me, child, are you as lost as you seem?”

 

Her eyes met the old woman’s, and without pause or falter, responded, “Yes.”   
  
“And how did such a girl, by chance, happen upon my well hidden abode?” She motioned to the house (if you can call it that, more like a rotted wooden box with a moss covered roof), eyes still locked on the child. “You see my dear, it is not hidden by any  _ normal _ means so no  _ normal _ means should find it.” 

 

“Ah, well,” Adehlehis paused, face twisting into a thoughtful look, eyes locked on her own filthy, leather wrapped feet, “I mean, I  _ can _ do magic. Not very well, though.” She exhaled, small voice rough with thirst,  “I’m only ten.”   
  
The old woman’s eyes crinkled at she laughed, “Why, you’re barely born! Well then, no need to stand there... _ Do _ come inside.”

 

For a moment Adehlehis felt apprehension-- the first feeling she’d felt since she started to run. Could this woman be trusted? Probably not, but the feeling soon passed for lack of options in the face of exhaustion. Whatever fate could take from her now she was willing to accept. 

 

 

“Oh no, dear, there is no way to make it all the way back to your clan before the horde.” The old woman--  _ Flemeth _ as she’d called herself-- said matter-of-factly while ladling a generous helping of some unknown meat into a wooden bowl. “By  _ normal  _ means anyway.”

Horse meat? Not that she cared, inhaling the warm and savory meal, “And by  _ non _ -normal means?” 

Flemeth’s laughed filled the cabin, “I  _ like _ the way you think child-- however, do you posses such a talent? I think not.”   
  
Adehlehis huffed her cheeks, “No, but I can learn.”   
  
“Quite the focus. And here I’d expect a child who just lost her mother to be sobbing uncontrollably into my shirt.” Flemeth smirked.   
  
“Your shirt is dirty.”

“Coming from the mouth of a child practically rolled in swamp water?” she tutted.

“Mamae wanted me to live.” She gripped her spoon hard enough to break it, “So I will.”  
  
Flemeth softened, her shoulders relaxing and a smile crept knowingly to her lips, “That much is very true, child. You would not have made it here or found this place without her wish for you to do so. I can tell; she paid the price with her own blood.”

“So will you teach me? The magic to get home?” She met Flemeth’s eyes without break, “I know I can learn.”

Flemeth could not stop laughing this time; the sound grated against the child’s bubbling grief. Adehlehis was getting frustrated, shifting in her seat. “Why are you laughing? It’s no joke!”

“Oh, oh you know not what you ask, child-- how  _ dear _ . An elven babe asking a  _ Witch of the Wilds _ to teach her several millennia old magic like it were some simple charm to shush halla? ‘Tis somewhat appropriate you should ask  _ me _ , from another perspective at least, but certainly not from any  _ common  _ one. No, no-- though I do admire your spirit you are so  _ very  _ young. The power required would devastate even the strongest mage child, especially one who’s barely lost it’s caul. But not all is lost--  there are  _ other _ options. There are  _ always _ options.”     
  
Adehlehis said nothing, she just kept her eyes focused and nodded with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her cheeks were beet red, embarrassed by that which she could not change.  _ Always too young.  _ She would sit, and she would listen. Her intuition warned her of a still present danger. She may not have been running from darkspawn any longer, but darkspawn were not the only threat. Whoever-- whatever-- this woman was remained unclear. She was an apostate, and a powerful one. 

Naturally, Adehlehis could sense other mages’ aura. Children especially were sensitive to large sources of magic and impressionable to sudden changes in the Veil or fluctuations of Fade; a mage child was always most vulnerable in the clan and slept most nights next to her Keeper until she could exhibit sure signs of control. Controlling your aura and the immediate area of the Fade around you was an adult skill, but it unfortunately dulled sensitivity to other’s, as they no longer manipulated or pressed their will upon your own. The Keeper had likened it to the surface tension on water; you may still or freeze to create stability, but then you can no longer see the fish or skip rocks. Stability, however, protected you from demons. To be as water was cocksure-- unpredictable-- especially in Dreaming. And, oh, Adehlehis  _ loved _ Dreaming. She tried to hide it from Keeper Deshanna, but there was no hiding such an obvious pastime from a powerful adult mage. She chided her every time, but watched and waited carefully. If Adehlehis were to be foolish, then she would not survive and could not be the Clan’s First. Every night was a test she had thus far passed.

“What are these options, and why do you help me? What price do I pay for that help?” Her tone was exacting. 

“Such a cynical response-- can’t an old woman help a child out of the good of her heart?”

“Rarely does one do anything without self motivation, and if they say they are it’s probably a lie. At least, that’s what my Keeper told me. People have yet to prove her wrong.” 

Flemeth chuckled, “Your Keeper is wise, young one. But there is nothing I want--  _ yet _ .”

The girl raised an eyebrow, “But you will later?”

“We will see, but it is your choice to place yourself in my debt. I would not take such matters lightly.” She crossed her arms and leaned back in the weathered, wooden chair, “But in you I see a great deal of possibility.”   
  
Ah, an _ investment. _ “OK, what can you suggest?”

“There are two real options, outside of  _ do nothing _ , child. The first is of great risk but swift resolution. The second will take time but it is of lesser risk and greater reward to you personally.” Flemeth carefully studied the girl’s reaction-- a productive silence. Laying a trail of breadcrumbs to the  _ preferred  _ solution might sway her. Yes, the child wanted her family but she might be too naive to see what a  _ precious _ opportunity she had here. Flemeth stood and pushed in her chair with a jarring drag,  “Perhaps you shall think on it as you bathe?”

“You aren’t going to tell me more information, are you.” It wasn’t a question. Adehlehis longed to rejoin her family-- to feel safe-- but she could not misstep now. Like hunting game you must stay calm, even when under threat. Only a clear head, unfettered by emotion, can you come out ahead. 

Flemeth laughed as if it were a clever joke, hand firmly gripping Adehlehis’ shoulder as she steered her to a wooden tub, “No. I won’t. Not until you are ready to make a choice. Strip and I will fill the basin.” 

It had been sometime since she’d had a child to care for, but it was not an easily forgotten skill after so many years and so many daughters. With a wave of her hand water started pooling at the bottom of the rustic tub, steaming.   
  
“Have you your own children, Lady Flemeth?” Adehlehis tossed her tunic in the pile and started undoing her braids.   
  
“Ah, yes. I have had many daughters.” A small hint of sweetness entered her voice as she ushered her into the tub and rolled up her sleeves, “Maybe the last was a bit like you-- strong willed and fiercely independent. Why, you just missed her.”

“Where did she go?” Strong hands gripped her shoulders and dunked her under, wetting her muddy hair.

“She has her own prerogative now that the Blight is coming.” She hummed, scrubbing the dirt off the lithe child’s freckled skin, “And it _ is _ coming.”

Well, she  _ had _ just been chased by a group of them, so she was inclined to agree. “So it seems.”

 

The warm water around her swirled with grime; black, brown, red, and grey flakes scabbed off her in clouds. She’d expected the old woman to be cruel, harsh-- a sort of cosmic punishment for being  _ not enough _ to save her mother. All the hahren ever said was that humans were cruel, abusive, and exploitive of their kind. And a strange woman in the woods, in possession of some magic she claims will aid her?  _ Perhaps I am dreaming. Perhaps this is a trick of the Fade before death.  _ She pinched herself on the thigh.

Flemeth’s tenor cut through the silence, “This is real, child.” 

  
“I was sure I’d lost all capacity for disbelief.” Adehlehis lifted her hand from under the surface of the water, the debris perfectly forming into the silhouette of a winged animal like tea leaves gathered in the bottom of a cup, “But there it is, a bird believing itself into existence.”   
  
“What a curious thing to say,  _ Adehlehis _ .” Flemeth pronounced her name so perfectly-- with a rhythm that made her feel alive. The old Witch of the Wilds magically filled a small bucket with clear water to rinse the soapy hair as she peered over the girl’s shoulder to look into her hand.  “And are you sure that’s a bird?”   


She startled-- the water was cold as Flemeth unceremoniously flooded her vision and washed the small collection from her hands. She coughed out water, “N-No.”

Flemeth motioned for her to stand and chuckled, “What else does fly,  _ Adehlehis _ ?”

“Dragons?” She stood, thankful the fire was close and raged with heat.   
  
“Yes, dragons, very good.” She threw a large cloth over her head.

Adehlehis wrapped herself in the cloth and stood, awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Flemeth was rooting through an old chest of clothes, “Here. They were Morrigan’s as a child-- and should fit you.”

“I need to be better.” She paused, water pooling at her feet, “How long is  _ ‘significantly more time’ _ ?”

Flemeth’s eyes twinkled, “However long it takes depends on you-- but it seems you’ve arrived at a decision?”

“I have.”

The old woman made strides to an obviously unused bed, with a collection of books sitting where one’s feet might be, and started to clear it off. “We will leave first thing in the morning.”


End file.
